The Tattoo Tells The Tale

#79 Real Estate Man

Almost everyone has heard of the quote “You never get a second chance to make a first impression.” It’s been attributed to Oscar Wilde and also to Will Rodgers. But nobody has any evidence of them saying it. The first time it was seen in print was in an ad for Botany Suits in 1966. It was adopted back in the 80’s by Head & Shoulders shampoo and widely associated with making a first visual impression on business interviews.

Real Estate Man always followed this bit of advertising wisdom when interviewing tenant applicants for apartments.

Real Estate Man’s story:

The young man sitting across the desk from me had applied for an apartment in Webster Manor. He was answering a few questions in the mandatory introductory interview. He seemed to be a pretty good guy who was going to be a surgical resident at the Pennsylvania Hospital a couple of blocks away from the apartment building he was moving into. He had a number of years of hard work for him ahead.

His cause was extra appealing by a very obvious neck tattoo that seemed to be at odds with his otherwise conservative appearance.

Written in calligraphy, it read: Lost- 2015-Elizabeth- League.

I didn’t see too much of the surgical resident the 3 years he lived in that apartment. I thought about that curious tattoo on his neck often though. Was it a sister, mother or girlfriend who was “Lost?” Must have been someone close to have made the sacrifice of memorializing that person with such a permanent display of mourning. And for someone so young — poor guy. He seemed to be holding up well. He had to be wrapped up in his rigorous residency program.What could I say to a person like that? We weren’t at all close. Was his grief somehow triggering unexpressed grief in me? Questions but no answers.

I didn’t want to dwell on it; overthink it.

However, as a result of this kind of other-directed thinking the surgical resident went to the top of the list when any type of apartment services were required. He wasn’t demanding but, upon request for any assistance my office could give, my heart and help went out to him.

At the end of his lease, the now doctor stopped off in my office to pick up his deposit. I tried to express my sympathy to him for the first time instead of ignoring that social obligation as I had for years.

Me with sincerity and curiosity: “I’m awfully sorry for your loss.”

Doctor: “Yeah, it was pretty bad.”

Me gently: “Sister? Mother? Girlfriend?”

Doctor: “ No, no, no such luck. That year we pledged to have the guys who managed the team that came in last in our fantasy baseball league get a tattoo with the date of the losing season along with our home town where the league is headquartered. Good old Elizabeth, NJ.”

Uncharacteristically speechless, I made a mental note to do a neck-check if I ever went into Pennsylvania Hospital for a procedure.